At length
his bodily infirmities reached a point when the task of laying
him in bed became as difficult as the navigation of a felucca in
the perils of an intricate channel. Then came the day of his
death; and this brilliant sceptic, whose mental faculties alone
had survived the most dreadful of all destructions, found himself
between his two special antipathies--the doctor and the
confessor. But he was jovial with them. Did he not see a light
gleaming in the future beyond the veil? The pall that is like
lead for other men was thin and translucent for him; the
light-footed, irresistible delights of youth danced beyond it
like shadows.
It was on a beautiful summer evening that Don Juan felt the near
approach of death. The sky of Spain was serene and cloudless; the
air was full of the scent of orange-blossom; the stars shed
clear, pure gleams of light; nature without seemed to give the
dying man assurance of resurrection; a dutiful and obedient son
sat there watching him with loving and respectful eyes. Towards
eleven o'clock he desired to be left alone with this
single-hearted being.
"Felipe," said the father, in tones so soft and affectionate that
the young man trembled, and tears of gladness came to his eyes;
never had that stern father spoken his name in such a tone.
"Listen, my son," the dying man went on.
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